


No Talking In The Library (Quiet Coming Is Permitted)

by Lokifan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, Library Sex, M/M, PWP, Secret Relationship, Silence Kink, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 14:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokifan/pseuds/Lokifan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eighth-year. Ron and Draco, hiding their relationship, meet in the library for some private time. Draco just can’t keep quiet. Warnings: inappropriate use of "silencio".</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Talking In The Library (Quiet Coming Is Permitted)

**Author's Note:**

> This was a VERY belated Christmas present for [profile] jacobnorman, since she did not receive enough presents that reflect her awesome this year! She prompted me with art of Ron and Draco [and her] in the Hogwarts library. It’s also for the “gags/silence” prompt on my Kink Bingo card.
> 
> It is also a reaction to the fanon invention of Silencing spells cast on areas instead of people.

Ron held his breath as he crept past Hermione’s table. The library might technically be Madam Pince’s domain, but it belonged to Hermione just as much. She had an uncanny ability to sense things out of place: Ron had seen her turn instantly at a book dropped face-down or misfiled, and glare the perpetrator into submission with her Prefectly gaze. Now she was Head Girl, Hermione’s abilities would surely have grown. And Ron Weasley in the library, though Hermione hadn’t dragged him there and no exams were looming? Definitely a thing out of place.

But Draco hadn’t listened when Ron had warned him about this. Ron had given him lots of other options: the Room of Requirement, the Astronomy Tower, any old abandoned classroom. Draco had shot them down one by one: full of dreadful memories, full of other students trying to get a leg over in private, inevitably going to be walked in on by Potter and Greg and maybe McGonagall for good measure. Ron, aware that his orgasms with Draco were at risk, had agreed.

Having a secret fling was hard at Hogwarts. It wasn’t hard to have a semi-secret fling: everyone was doing that in the aftermath of the war, from McGonagall and Hooch to Ginny and Neville to Crookshanks and Mrs Norris. They all seemed to fondly imagine that no one knew, even Luna and Dean, who’d worn the wrong House ties to breakfast three times. Tactful silence around relationships had become a bit of a way of life.

Draco was terrible at being tactful or silent, so he had ignored the unspoken rules. He regularly carolled out the new pairings at breakfast, welcoming his friends to the Slytherin table with congratulations or questions about their new lovers’ assets. The thumps he received from Pansy, Greg and Blaise didn’t make a dent. As a result, various people were taking a vengeful interest in Draco’s love life.

And more than that - Ron needed this relationship to be _truly_ secret, not something that people pretended not to see. Wherever it was going, he couldn’t make himself discuss it yet; not even with Harry or Hermione. And if Ginny found out, the rest of the family would too - and things were still so fragile, after -

Ron didn’t have to finish that thought, to his vast relief: a pale hand snaked round a bookshelf and yanked him into the stacks by his tie. “What took you so long?” Draco muttered.

“Had to sneak past Hermione.”

Draco sniffed. “If you’d been a Slytherin you’d have done it in half the time and I’d have my hand down your trousers by now.”

“If I’d been a Slytherin I would have killed you dead in irritation years ago and we’d never have got this far.”

Draco paused, and Ron held his breath: this was no place for a Malfoy tantrum. Then a brilliant smile broke out on Draco’s pale face, transforming it, and Ron grinned helplessly back.

“This is probably true,” agreed Draco. He flattened himself against a bookshelf and Ron’s body followed; he moulded himself against Draco’s body, fitting Draco’s lines and curves and sharp angles. “Although honestly, you’re terrible at sneaking even for a Gryffindor. I blame that Invisibility Cloak of Potter’s. You never had to learn to do it properly like the rest of us.”

“I know,” Ron murmured, lowering his mouth until he could feel Draco’s warm breath on his lips. “When you were an ickle Slytherin, you had to sneak uphill both ways in the snow...”

“And we didn’t get an _Invisibility Cloak_ for Christmas,” Draco said, his voice going uneven as Ron pressed his mouth to Draco’s skin. Ron traced the sharp line of Draco’s jaw with his tongue. “We h-had to be satisfied with coal dust to blacken our faces...”

“That’s very sad,” Ron breathed into Draco’s skin as he pressed his thumbs against Draco’s hipbones, sliding his fingertips inside Draco’s trousers. “I had no idea you were so deprived.”

“D-depraved more like - fuck!”

Draco’s swearing cut through the muffled quiet of the library like the crack of house-elf Apparition: Ron almost looked in dread for Kreacher. He yanked his hands away and Draco slitted open his pale eyes. “What?”

“You’ve got to keep quiet. If we make noise, Pince will come looking for us - or worse, Hermione.”

“Granger isn’t going to come looking, she’s busy communing with her precious books.” Draco reached for Ron’s grey school trousers and unbuttoned and unzipped them. Ron swayed closer, his hands sliding back onto Draco’s body.

It had been too long since he’d had his hands on Draco, and Draco seemed to feel the same way. They couldn’t undress properly but they unbuttoned each other’s shirts and got each other’s cocks out. Draco’s clever fingers made the touch sweet relief, for all that it was strange to do this in the quiet, musty school bookshelves. Ron was faster; grinning, he rubbed one broad hand down Draco’s shaft, feeling Draco’s fingers stutter against his chest.

“You think you’re clever,” Draco said, clearly straining to keep his voice even. Ron twisted his wrist as he wanked Draco slowly, playing with the fat pink head of his cock. Draco leaned forward into Ron, catching his mouth. Ron kissed him, slow and dirty, and worked Draco, swallowing his moans. An enjoyable feeling of possession twisted in Ron’s stomach as he used both hands to explore Draco’s body, stroking and touching his vulnerable places. A long moan was dragged out of Draco as Ron squeezed him, and Ron stopped.

“Keep it quiet, remember?” Draco’s hands were exploring him in turn, and Ron bit into his lower lip, holding in the groan as Draco’s fingers slid teasingly down to take firm hold of his cock.

“Fine,” Draco muttered back. They kept moving together; Ron’s hips hitched forward into Draco’s touch, and before long they were moving in rhythm, pushing their hips together, chasing orgasm. A lifetime of crowded living quarters had made Ron quiet, but soon he was panting hard into the crook of Draco’s neck, biting at the sweat-salt skin to hold back the sounds

Draco moaned luxuriously at the bite. Ron couldn’t stop himself from thrusting harder at the sound before he pulled back and gave Draco a mighty glare.

He might not have a Hermione-level glare, but Ron was his mother’s son. Unfortunately, Draco’s lifestyle of committed annoyingness had apparently made him impervious to glares. His kiss-red mouth curled into a filthy grin at Ron’s expression, and he pushed his cock against Ron with a groan.

“You’re bloody shameless!”

Draco gave Ron a hot-eyed look and a slow, easy wriggle. Ron bit his tongue as Draco’s cock rubbed against his. “Why thank you.”

“It’s not a good thing!” Ron hissed. “Learn some shame!”

“What if I come over all bashful about fucking out of wedlock?”

“That’s not what I mean! I mean you’re a spoilt brat who was an only child with half a mansion to himself and apparently even dorm living couldn’t teach you!”

“Nope,” Draco agreed. “Well, I think Blaise secretly enjoyed - ”

“I _knew it_ \- that’s not the point.” Ron was aware that he was probably undermining his point by rubbing at Draco’s cock, teasing his fingers over the hot, damp skin - but he couldn’t make himself stop, not when Draco was still lazily rolling his hips against Ron’s, eyes bright. “The point is you need to get some sodding self-control and stop wailing every time I touch you, or people are probably going to guess what’s happening back here!”

“You love it when I’m noisy in the Prefect’s bathroom.”

“Because that has a lock! And a door!” Ron teased the tips of his long fingers over Draco’s balls, and Draco let out a long, loud groan.

“Draco!”

“I thought you liked my lack of self-control. Let’s face it, we’d never have fucked if I - ”

Ron put his hand over Draco’s mouth. Draco’s pale eyes flared with outrage, his mouth opening against Ron’s palm, and then as Ron pressed him against the bookshelf, something else filled Draco’s face. His head dropped back against the bookshelf, his eyes closed, and he pushed up into Ron’s hands. At the sight of Draco’s transported face with Ron’s hand gagging him, lust hit Ron like a kick to the stomach and made him breathless.

Ron pressed forward, wanking them both together, and Draco cried out. The sound rang through the shelves regardless of Ron’s hand, and Draco’s eyes opened. For a long moment they both froze, listening for footsteps. None came.

“That’s it,” said Ron, and he drew his wand.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you quiet. This is ridiculous, Malfoy - if you can’t control yourself I’ll do it for you.”

The flush on Draco’s cheeks deepened, and Ron felt Draco’s breath hitch. Draco glowered anyway, as if to hide his reaction, as if Ron didn’t have his hands all over Draco’s heated skin. “What’re you - ”

“I’ll cast a silencing spell on you, so you can cry out all you want and no one will hear you.”

“Piss off - ”

“It’s this or nothing, Malfoy, because I’m not making you come here without silencing you. You’ll get us caught.”

Draco swallowed. His hard breathing had gone shallow, but his cock was still hard against Ron. Their faces were inches apart, and Ron watched Draco’s eyes, trying to see what he was thinking.

“If you silence me - no one will be able to hear if - my wand’s in my bag.”

“So trust me,” Ron muttered into the small, hot space between them. He couldn’t quite make himself say _I won’t hurt you_ or _I’d never take advantage of this_ but he hoped Draco felt it in the way Ron’s hand stroked gently up Draco’s bare side under his unbuttoned shirt, as if soothing an anxious horse.

“What if - what if you do it all wrong and I need to tell you how to do ir right and you can’t tell?”

“I know you. I’ll know if something’s wrong.” Ron heard his voice softening against his will as he spoke. Draco’s eyes softened too, but he scowled, as if annoyed that Ron had heard the need for reassurance.

For a Slytherin, Draco was not very sneaky at all.

“Now.” Ron licked a line up Draco’s throat, his teeth skating along the vulnerable skin; his hand curled more tightly around Draco’s cock, and Draco gave one last cut-off cry. “Are you going to come silently, or not at all?”

He pulled back in time to see Draco shut his eyes as he rasped, “do it.”

“ _Silencio_.” Ron said it like _I love you._

Draco really trusted him. Ron hadn’t been sure before.

Then he dropped his wand and began wanking them both again. Ron forced himself to keep his eyes open, fighting back the desire to shut his eyes and groan, so he could watch Draco’s face.

Draco was flushed already, well on his way to coming. It only took a few long, glorious slides, pleasure sparking between them, before Draco was shivering against Ron. He opened his mouth and cried out silently.

His expression was eloquent now that his mouth couldn’t be; his body was liquid in Ron’s hands, following the rhythm Ron set, screaming its desperation. Ron stared, watching every shape Draco’s mouth made, and began pinching Draco’s right nipple in one hand, hardening it, playing with it. Draco curled forward, his breath coming in silent huffs against Ron’s cheek, his chest hitching helplessly against Ron’s.

Ron could feel the heat of Draco’s blush against his own skin as they panted together. Draco was shuddering, their hips pumping together faster. Maybe Draco had been more worried, even now, about his mouth betraying him than Ron knew. Because now it couldn’t happen, emotion was overtaking Draco’s face, evident in every motion he made. Draco was stroking Ron’s back, holding him closer and closer, and then his nails dug in as Ron chased him to the edge.

Draco was grimacing with pleasure, shuddering, helpless; the mere sight of him had fire sparking in Ron’s veins. Watching him scream, silent but heartfelt, feeling Draco’s chest vibrate with his cries as Ron touched him, seeing the way he spread his legs and drew Ron impossibly close, groaning without sound against Ron’s collarbone -

Ron muffled the cry in Draco’s shoulder as he came, overwhelmed. He was unable to keep his eyes open as he felt Draco shudder along with him. They clutched at each other, Ron working them both through it, gently touching Draco’s cock until he was pushed away just to feel Draco quiver. Ron’s panting sounded incredibly loud in the silence.

The hidden relationship had given them both practice: Ron and Draco were buttoning themselves up even as they quivered with aftershocks. Ron couldn’t bring himself to move away though, and Draco didn’t push him, so their knuckles caught each other’s as they dressed.

Ron drew his wand again. “ _Finite_.”

Draco raised his head as he heard Ron’s whispered spell. They stared at each other in the dimness of the library, unsaid words filling the air around them.

Draco gave an irritable little shrug, as if shrugging off a burden that annoyed, and kissed him.


End file.
